[Yes]
I made my choice, and the interface shifted instantly.
[Exchange in progress...]
[It is advised that the user find an isolated place for the next hour, as the process will cause extre pain.]
[You have one minute to locate an isolated area before the process begins.]
'So it's true... That bastard really was trying to get killed.' But how? He only asked for my book. We barely spoke, and I never gave him a real chance to do anything else.
'Tsk.'
Enough. I needed to focus. I scanned my surroundings, quickly deciding the rooftop was my best bet for isolation. I headed toward the elevator, rounding the corner and pressing the tallic button. The quiet hum of the doors opening was strangely comforting, but that comfort was short-lived.
"Lyra?" I cursed silently. Of all people, it had to be her.
Lyra. The crazy elven princess.
She stood in the elevator, her green hair cascading in waves like erald silk, and eyes that shimred like rare gemstones. Even in the standard school uniform—a crisp white shirt and pleated skirt—she exuded a dangerous allure. The uniform hugged her slender waist and clung just right to her curves, almost too intentionally. Her entire being scread nobility, beauty, and danger in equal asure.
Her full lips parted slightly as if she were about to deliver so cutting remark. Her eyes locked onto mine, a mix of curiosity and suspicion, and I could feel my heart rate spike—not out of attraction, but pure survival instinct.
"How do you know my na?" Her voice was low, almost sultry, but it carried an unmistakable edge of nace.
'Crap,' I thought, trying to stay calm. 'How do I talk my way out of this?'
"Uh... about that..." I rubbed the back of my neck, scrambling for an excuse. But my mind was in overdrive, and I couldn't co up with anything reasonable. This was bad. Very bad.
According to the ga's storyline, she doesn't even go by the na "Lyra" at this point. No one knows she's an elven princess yet. One wrong word could be fatal.
"I asked a question," she repeated, her tone sharper now as she stepped forward, trying to exit the elevator.
Tsk, screw this.
Without thinking, I did the one thing no one would expect.
*Thwack!*
My fist connected with her face, sending her stumbling backward, eyes wide with shock.
"Ah!" She gasped, clutching her nose in disbelief, but before she could react further, the elevator doors slid shut, trapping her inside.
"Tsk," I muttered under my breath. Maybe that wasn't necessary, but if she had stepped out, things would've spiraled out of control. She was far more powerful than I was, and fighting her would've been pointless. Running? Just as futile—she's faster, and there's no way I could've outrun her.
More importantly, Lyra was unpredictable. If she suspected anything, I'd have been finished.
[Ding!]
[Ti left: 06:34]
"Shit!" I swore, sprinting toward the stairs. This part of the school was deserted, thankfully. Everyone was in the cafeteria. That punch? It was my only chance to buy enough ti to close the elevator doors. If I'd done that in a crowded area, her fanboys would've beaten senseless—or worse.
At least I had a few precious monts to escape.
I bolted up the stairs, my legs burning with every step as the seconds ticked down. Whatever this "exchange" was going to do to , I had a feeling the system had seriously undersold the pain.
But as I ran, my thoughts drifted back to Lyra. What was she doing in that elevator? It didn't lead to the cafeteria or any common areas. She's not soone you'd just "run into." Sothing was off, but I didn't have the luxury of thinking about it.
'Please be open, please be open,' I prayed as I reached the rooftop door.
-BAM!-
It swung open with a loud creak.
"Thank god," I muttered, stepping onto the rooftop. The wind was cool, but I didn't have ti to appreciate it.
[Ti left: 00:04]
[Ti left: 00:03]
[Ti left: 00:02]
[Ti left: 00:01]
[Ti left: 00:00]
[Initiating Affinity insertion!]
And then, the pain hit.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
I collapsed, screaming as fire seed to erupt in every cell of my body. It felt like my soul was being ripped apart and sewn back together—over and over—in the most agonizing way imaginable.
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